


bloom towards me

by hyungnyan



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: M/M, This is like 99 percent fluff, and like one percent angst, ceo hyunwoo, if even that, just mi nasty domestic fantasies come to life, kitten hybrid hyungwon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 21:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11563659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyungnyan/pseuds/hyungnyan
Summary: The thought of Hyunwoo returning is the only thing that makes his departure easier to swallow. - ceo hyunwoo, kitten hybrid hyungwon





	bloom towards me

**Author's Note:**

> a self-indulgent one shot for an au i've had for a while! kitten hybrid hyungwon and ceo hyunwoo with a bit of my DISGUSTING domesticity thrown in. this is stand alone and won't be part of anything bigger.
> 
> thank you to my baby girl princess angel san who gave me the push i really needed to publish some stuff again and lovely peach lyndsey for betaing last minute for me!!!!

“Wake up.”

Hyunwoo jolts against the palm on his chest, turning his head to squint at the clock – it’s 3:42 in the morning and he vaguely recalls having to get up two hours from now to catch a flight to Japan. He could go back to sleep but the hand pushing down on him, fingers spread wide, is clearly objecting. When his eyes adjust in the dark, he can just barely see the sleepy sway to Hyungwon’s tail, the way one of his ears is oddly folded from where it was pressed against the pillow.

“I’m hungry.” Hyungwon’s voice has a half-asleep croak to it as his nails scratch at Hyunwoo’s chest. “Wake up.”

“It’s 3 in the morning, Hyungwon.” Hyunwoo says, trying to peel his hand off. Hyungwon sits himself down on Hyunwoo’s stomach in response. “There’s food in the fridge. I even bought you salmon.”

“I want shrimp.” Hyungwon says, as if it’s as simple as that, as if Hyunwoo is just going to waltz out of bed and buy him a whole pound of it from the store. Hyunwoo has half a mind to fling Hyungwon off of him and roll back over in bed but he knows that’s only going to get his eyes clawed out. He props himself up against the headboard instead, heaving Hyungwon up by his waist and settling him back down comfortably, a prince on his throne. Even with his face swollen from sleep and an ear still twitching back into position, Hyungwon does look princely, all the grace and coolness of a prized kitten.

“Hyung.” Hyungwon presses, a whine low in his throat. “I’m so hungry, my stomach hurts.”

Hyunwoo fumbles for his phone, finds it slid under Hyungwon’s favorite pillow – his screen says he has four minutes to try inputting his pin again. He doesn’t recall password protecting it. “Did you try to order off my phone?”

“I told you I don’t know how to work it.” He’s not exactly wrong; Hyunwoo had made the mistake of giving him his own cell phone for their first few months together. He hadn’t been too surprised when Hyungwon used it to bulk order socks off the internet and then dropped it down a sewer grate. “Just order it for me and you can go back to sleep.”

There’s no way in hell Hyunwoo is going to fall back asleep properly to rest before his flight later so he might as well just get it over with. Instead of looking grateful, Hyungwon just looks affronted, as if it shouldn’t have taken Hyunwoo this long to admit defeat and order from some cheap all-night seafood place. Hyunwoo stumbles from bed and slips on a pair of discarded sweatpants, padding into the kitchen to leaf through take-out menus on the fridge. Being the CEO of an electronics company has no effect on Hyunwoo’s eating habits – he can easily go from caviar and truffles to fried chicken ordered at midnight. And as refined as Hyungwon seems to act, as positively spoiled as he enjoys being, he loves greasy take-out food too, especially seafood. Hyunwoo plucks off the bright red flyer for Hyungwon’s favorite place but he already has the number memorized, tumbling around in his head with stock figures and speed dialing his financial advisor.

He could be annoyed when he comes back to the bedroom to find Hyungwon passed out on his side of the bed, tail lolling sleepily and ears flattened. At this point, he knows Hyungwon too well – that he craves the attention more than the shrimp, that he gets a bit _attached_ before Hyunwoo’s business trips. Hyunwoo knows he can object at any time, stop playing these games with him and wean Hyungwon off being such a brat. But he also reluctantly admits that it’s part of Hyungwon’s charm, the way he disguises how much he misses Hyunwoo when he’s gone through little tricks like this, through desperate attention grabs that are later thrown to the side to feign indifference. Hyungwon is unlike any kitten he’s ever met, which merits its own good and bad, but Hyunwoo would never trade him for any other one out there.

“Come on, Won.” Hyunwoo says when the delivery boy knocks on the door and thrusts the hot, slightly damp plastic bag into his hands. Hyungwon moans against the pillow pitifully. “You already woke me up and you get to go back to sleep, unlike me. So eat your shrimp.”

His ears twitch, one and two and three, like little antennas before he sits up. Even wildly spoiled, he knows better than to eat in bed, slinking out from under the sheets with the drowsy grace only a well-bred kitten could have. Despite his fingers sticky with sauce and a smear of red pepper on Hyungwon’s cheek, he still manages to look elegant while devouring salted shrimp. Hyunwoo flicks on the kitchen lights and starts the coffee maker – in the end, Hyungwon always gets what he wants and that’s Hyunwoo’s undivided attention before he leaves for Japan. Hyungwon remains at the table, hunched and waifish looking under the fluorescents, tiny enough to make Hyunwoo wonder where all the food he eats goes. Maybe it’s the metabolism of a kitten, lithe and always sleeping, or maybe Hyungwon is just superhuman. Either way, he’s finished eating before the coffee is even ready, small and sleepy-eyed.

“I’m going back to bed.” Hyungwon states, sliding off the stool. “Wake me up when you’re leaving.”

There he is, trying to detach himself again from the isolated moment of peace between them, an almost domestic morning. “You won’t budge if I try to wake you up. Come here.”

Hyungwon tries not to make a big deal of showing anything on his face when he steps into Hyunwoo’s open arms. It’s a futile effort – Hyunwoo can immediately hear the purring, low in his throat, when he slips a hand up the back of Hyungwon’s sleep shirt. The fur of his ears smells clean and warm, just like the bare skin of his neck when Hyunwoo buries his face there. If Hyungwon is going to make a big deal of being aloof and pretending not to miss Hyunwoo, then he’s going to take his time holding him, dragging his fingers along the notches of Hyungwon’s back. He can feel Hyungwon’s nose crinkle against his chest, a tell-tale sign that he’s either emotional or close to kicking Hyunwoo away from him. Hyungwon melts a bit more in his grip, the purring louder – it’s the former.

“I’ll bring you back whatever you want from Japan.” Hyunwoo says, pulling back because he knows Hyungwon hates being smothered. “Think about it and then send me a text.”

“I can buy all that stuff online.” Hyungwon bites back, staying pressed to Hyunwoo’s chest. He doesn’t need to tell Hyunwoo anyway; Hyunwoo is adept to the things Hyungwon likes and dislikes. As sullen as he’d be to admit it, he can’t recall ever getting a bad gift from him in the last three years, each one small and pretty and thought-out. He glances briefly at the slim silver bracelet that hangs off his wrist, a gift from Paris that Hyunwoo had gotten him two years ago. It’s stayed there ever since, a testament to Hyunwoo’s understanding of Hyungwon, a testament to Hyungwon’s veiled devotion to Hyunwoo.

“Go back to bed.” Hyunwoo says, kissing the shell of Hyungwon’s ear, but makes no move to loosen his grip. “You need your sleep more than me.”

“I’m awake anyway.” Hyungwon wiggles his hips, a hint for Hyunwoo to finally let go. He watches Hyungwon slink into the living room, tail curled around his thigh, and toss himself onto the couch. Any other day and Hyungwon would probably fall asleep five minutes into the morning news -- he’s strange like this, on days that Hyunwoo is leaving, pushing and pulling away from his attention. He’s right, too, when he brings two cups of coffee over and finds Hyungwon staring listlessly at a financial report instead of napping. Hyunwoo knows better than to point out that Hyungwon misses him and gets lonely; they both know and Hyungwon doesn’t like to be aired out, to have his vulnerabilities exposed.

Hyunwoo lets Hyungwon settle against his chest, threads his fingers through his hair to scratch at the base of his ears. Hyunwoo loves them - white and tipped brown like a Ragdoll cat, warm and responsive to any touch. Hyungwon hadn’t let him touch them for months after Hyunwoo got him, protective over the whipping curl of his tail and the ears he kept flat against his hair when his new owner got too close. Now he’s trusting, no longer panicked when Hyunwoo moves to smooth his ears down; it’s almost funny to think back about how fiercely Hyungwon protected them, given his limbs seem to have gone to jelly as Hyunwoo rubs a particularly sensitive spot at the base of his ears. Hyunwoo has felt that the greatest admission of trust from Hyungwon were not words but when he allowed his ears to be pet without flinching back, without baring his teeth.

“I’m really gonna fall back asleep if you keep doing that.” Hyungwon warns, his words slow like syrup. Hyunwoo laughs, stills his hand but keeps his palm flat there, a lingering gesture as if Hyungwon might dissipate if he pulls back. He could honestly fall back asleep like this too, to the sound of Hyungwon’s languid inhale-exhale-inhale, the steady beat of his pulse against Hyunwoo’s skin, the almost silent purring at the back of his throat. Even for all his jutting limbs and cold shouldering, Hyungwon is capable of being wonderfully soft and comforting, tangled around Hyunwoo’s body and smelling like his cologne, his body wash, smells like he belongs here.

“You smell good.” Hyunwoo says, shifting his position to let Hyungwon pour into his lap, all sleepy and limp. “You’ve been using my shampoo.”

“Yours is expensive.” Hyungwon says, cheek pressed to Hyunwoo’s bare thigh, eyes focused on the television. “I like smelling expensive.”

He’s so charming and Hyunwoo adores him, each spoiled word that’s heavy with sleep on his tongue, each eyelash fanned across his cheek. Hyungwon could pour all of his expensive shampoo straight down the drain and Hyunwoo would still adore him this fully, this completely. Hyungwon sighs against his skin, tail whumping tiredly on the couch cushions before curling back under his thighs. Hyunwoo doesn’t want to get up, doesn’t want to shift Hyungwon out of his arms, but the clock keeps ticking forward and he needs to get dressed, shave the stubble from his jawline.

Hyunwoo tries to slip off the couch as gracefully as he can but Hyungwon makes a sound of protest, slinking after him into the bathroom and perching himself up on the counter. Hyunwoo shaves like this, eyes less focused on the razor slipping down his neck, more focused on the lidded gaze Hyungwon gives him, the lazy twitch of his ears. This is what Hyunwoo misses the most on business trips, Hyungwon with his legs kicking sleepily and his sleep shirt threatening to spill off one shoulder. It’s the familiarity, the feeling of Hyungwon always being around - hotel rooms, bathrooms, beds all feel sterile without him, with the warm imprint he seems to leave everywhere.

Hyungwon stays there, staring through the doorway while Hyunwoo strips out of his boxers. Hyungwon seems to sway with exhaustion, eyes unfocused as Hyunwoo steps into neatly pressed suit pants, buttons up the front of his dress shirt. Only when he’s fixed his blazer into place does Hyunwoo return to the bathroom, silk tie hanging loosely around his neck -- this is Hyungwon’s job, something that’s been delegated to him ever since he started living here. It’s not as if Hyunwoo isn’t capable of tying his own tie -- he’s good at it too, gets the knot all square and pristine -- but he likes being close to Hyungwon, watching his long fingers slide between the silk of his tie.

“I like this tie.” Hyungwon says, rubbing his thumb over the embroidered leaf print, tugging Hyunwoo a little closer. He can’t imagine a time before this, before Hyungwon’s breath fanning over his neck, before the warm brush of his fingers across his clavicle. Hyungwon presses his lips to the underside of Hyunwoo’s jaw before pulling back, tie perfectly knotted under his starched collar, Hyunwoo’s words thick in his throat.

“Thank you.” Hyunwoo finally murmurs and he wants to trap Hyungwon there, hands on his waist, back pressed to the bathroom mirror, kiss him senseless but his car is going to be here in ten minutes. “Are you going to be okay? If you want to order food, just ask Changkyun, alright?”

“I’ve survived without you just fine.” Hyungwon huffs in response, despite the fact that he almost broke Hyunwoo’s phone that morning trying to order take out. Poor Changkyun. Hyunwoo’s assistant is going to wake up at every hour of the day just to order Hyungwon some shitty black bean noodles, although he won’t mind because like every boy that meets Hyungwon, he’s completely and pitifully infatuated. It’d probably be the highlight of his day to wake up at four in the morning and use his own credit card to get Hyungwon some cheap fried chicken.

“You want to come down with me or go back to sleep?” Hyunwoo asks and gets his answer when Hyungwon slides off the counter, shoving his feet in a pair of slippers near the door, tail swaying expectantly. “You won’t be cold?”

“I’m not going to die if I’m outside for two minutes.” Hyungwon pads towards the front door, looking more forlorn than usual when he sees Hyunwoo dressed to leave and rolling out his luggage. They take the elevator quietly, Hyungwon’s weight resting against his arm, fingers searching to lace with Hyunwoo’s. Hyunwoo squeezes them, once and twice, before Hyungwon lets go again -- Hyungwon sets the conditions, initiates the affection. Hyunwoo is just happy to oblige.

His car is waiting on the curb, sleek and black and new, the engine humming especially loud on such a quiet morning. It _is_ cold and Hyunwoo can already see the shake to Hyungwon’s frame, which he tries to hide by hunching his shoulders. While his driver puts his luggage in the trunk, Hyunwoo takes the time to look at Hyungwon properly before he leaves -- he likes to do this, remember the exact milk tea shade of his ear tips, count each lash on his eyes, remember the petal pink of his sleep-swollen lips. It’s easier to draw his image forward when Hyunwoo misses him, to remember him in bits and pieces (the tiny beauty mark on his lower lip, the roundness of his cheeks when he smiles, all the little things lost so easily).

“You’ll be careful, right?” Hyungwon asks, stepping forward to curl his fingers around the lapels of Hyunwoo’s blazer. It’s not a question as much as a statement – Hyunwoo is not allowed to be anything but careful. Hyunwoo’s job is, at the surface, mundane but Hyungwon spends most of his time in the safety of a sterile, clean apartment. He worries about the plane, about getting sick, about car crashes, about anything that makes Hyunwoo have to be careful. If he didn’t have Hyunwoo anymore, he couldn’t go on and that’s something he doesn’t voice. He’s unsure himself if it’s out of pride or fear that saying it will make it align in reality.

It’s like Hyunwoo can see all the little gears crunching nervously in Hyungwon’s head, despite the fact that his expression is slack, a practiced indifference. “I’m always careful. I’ll call you as soon as I land.”

“I might be sleeping.” Hyungwon lies through his teeth, tugging at Hyunwoo’s blazer instead of looking at his eyes. “Leave me a message, okay?”

Hyunwoo knows Hyungwon will answer, will fall asleep curled around his phone and wait for his call. He indulges him instead. “I’ll leave you a message. Wouldn’t want to wake you up.”

Hyungwon makes a noise in the back of his throat, halfway to a purr, before pulling back. He’s always been good at restraining himself, never the type to fall at Hyunwoo’s feet and beg for him to stay.  It’s hard to hold back when Hyunwoo tugs him back into place, hands snug on his hips, and presses a kiss to the tip of each ear. Hyungwon has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t try to persuade Hyunwoo to stay, stay a bit longer, take off his blazer and climb back in bed. He squeezes his eyes tighter until all he can feel is the kiss to his forehead, his nose, the brush across his lips. Hyunwoo knows him well, so well, that even now Hyungwon doesn’t like to make a show of affection in public.

“Climb Mount Fuji for me.” Hyungwon suddenly demands because he knows time is ticking and Hyunwoo’s driver is close to pressing the horn and _please_ , one more moment, stay. “I want a picture from the top.”

“Of course.” Hyunwoo says, even though Hyungwon knows he’ll just be ferried between office buildings and restaurants in Tokyo for his week there. Hyungwon hesitates for a second, biting back one thousand more words on his tongue, and decides to just drop his hands. Hyunwoo goes for one more kiss at Hyungwon’s neck, along his jawline, before throwing his briefcase at the foot of his seat. When Hyunwoo’s car drives away, Hyungwon is already waiting for the elevator in the lobby – he never likes to watch Hyunwoo leave.

Hyunwoo is already trying to recall the little things about him that morning, all the way to the airport, tries to recall how he’d been so warm and flushed pink from sleep, the kiss to his jaw, the gravel to his worn voice. And Hyungwon thinks of Hyunwoo in the elevator, the uneven crinkle to his eyes when he grins, the broad and calloused hands that slip up his shirt, the way he looks at Hyungwon like he’s something glittering and foreign from the sky.

The urge to nap comes easy, even without Hyunwoo, and Hyungwon curls around the pillow that smells like him. In a few hours, Hyungwon will wake up to his phone call and hear his voice, heavy and safe and _Hyunwoo_. The thought of Hyunwoo’s return is the only thing that makes his departure easier to swallow - his half moon eyes, back home again, his strong grip on Hyungwon’s hips, back home again, the warmth that trails him, back home again. Until then, he closes his eyes and thinks about tumbling right back into Hyunwoo’s arms the moment he’s home again. Until then, Hyungwon sleeps.


End file.
